Flower Child

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 21, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 21, 2018



 Her hands were small. 

Spider-like characteristics hung at her fingertips, 

webs danced on her palms.

Her eyes stared into galaxies, never looking back at me. 

And I fell anyways.

 Wooden chairs, puzzles and games, the world moved outside that window.

A little girl on the edge of cure. Oh.

I fell anyways.

 She ground her teeth into rigid rows, pearls of glass, hands clenched closed. 

My heart beat against my rib cage...

I fell anyways.

 They believed her mind to be as silent as her lips, 

no storm to be dismissed by their eager hearts. 

They had eager hearts.

No word to be said, yet, 

I fell anyways.

 The ground cold beneath my hands, the smoke left in my hair. 

Clouds tried to cast over, to shield me from what I might otherwise see...

Her eyes, looking back at me.

 A strange world with wooden doors, a new land to explore. 

A new land unexplored. 

Her hand prints painted the walls and her view was only so limited

 That the may one day tell her, though she reaches for the stars - gravity won't permit it.

 My hands remained outstretched, her fingers eager to hold.

This little one with darting eyes is the one I told

The people of when they ask for her name 

The people say it's not too late...

I fell anyways,

I fall anyways.

© Copyright 2019 B.K. Kat. All rights reserved.

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